


upheaval

by starrynight (starsandroses)



Series: as we stumble along [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coping, Crying, Dealing With Trauma, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Death, Recovery, Trauma, dealing with your trauma with your friends!, massive spoilers for trigger happy havoc, these six have had it ROUGH i give them a break, they deserve it!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24598402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandroses/pseuds/starrynight
Summary: upheaval: a great change, especially causing or involving much difficulty(or, after the events of the first killing game, the survivors recover in the only way they can)
Series: as we stumble along [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778143
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	upheaval

Makoto Naegi has learned to shower with his eyes closed.

It hadn't been easy. He's banged his knees off the walls or mistaken body wash for shampoo or burned himself because he turned the nozzle too far too many times to count. He even has a scar on his leg from the time he'd stumbled out of the shower and cut himself on the door.

But it's better than the alternative. It's better than looking down and seeing the blood swirling down the drain. It's better than seeing the upside-down letters scrawled in a dying girl's handwriting. It's better than looking down and seeing the dead girl herself, leaning against the shower wall. 

So Makoto keeps his eyes closed. He steps out of the shower and shuts the door before he opens his eyes. He gets dressed, pulling on his old hoodie, and stumbles out of the bathroom. A glance at the calendar hanging loose on the wall confirms that yes, today is the day. He gets a quick breakfast together: an orange and plain toast.

Makoto can't stomach butter anymore. After they escaped from the killing game and were recused, he'd been given bread and butter to eat. As soon as he tasted it, he'd thrown up. He'd thrown up every time after, too. It reminded him of a motorcycle spinning out of control and the smell of a melting body and the look of regret and shame in lavender eyes.

As soon as he's done eating, he rushes out the door. He's going to be late; which will surprise no one. At least he doesn't have a job to do today. They'd all reserved this day off months ago. No one had been surprised about that either.

Luckily (he snorts at the thought), their meeting place was close to their living quarters. Asahina had found it, weeks before. She'd called him when she did, crying so hard that Makoto had excused himself from his meeting to console her. She talked about this place through her tears, the little flower garden, overgrown with wildflowers and vines, and decided it would be an excellent spot for today. Makoto had seen the giant tree guarding the garden, with its soft pink petals, and immediately knew why Asahina had chosen the place.

Asahina herself is already there, along with two others. Togami stands rigid near the sakura tree, eyes meeting with Makoto's as the latter enters the garden. "You're late."

"I'm not the only one," Makoto defends, glancing at the girl sitting next to Asahina. "Fukawa! You got here in time! How's Komaru?"

The writer snorts. "Your sister is fine. Still being aggravatingly optimistic about her efforts. Wonder where she got that from?"

Makoto fakes an offended noise, noticing how her stammer nearly vanished. It was still there, in the way Fukawa hesitates as she speaks, but it seems like her time with his sister had done her good. And Fukawa is good for Komaru; he thinks there's no one else he'd rather trust with his sister's life.

He joins the girls under the tree. Asahina has a few petals in her hair, which she seems oblivious too as she tackles him in into a hug. "Naegi! You're here!"

"Of course I'm here," He says, with a smile. Asahina passes him a donut from a box by her side. After a few moments, Togami joins their makeshift circle, sitting next to Fukawa. That combination would have spelled disaster a few months ago, but now, Fukawa just glances at Togami, before taking a donut from Asahina. There's no creepy looks, no cold dismissals. The Future Foundation doesn't have any therapists in their midst, but the few with psychology backgrounds had speculated the whole, 'Master' thing had been a (seriously unhealthy) coping mechanism. Togami, wanting to have something to control while his world was spinning around uncontrollably, and Fukawa, wanting something else to pour her focus onto, created a toxic mess.

But that's in the past. Makoto takes a bite out of the donut, listening as Asahina talks, as Togami butts in whenever he feels like it, and as Fukawa gives a little smile whenever she finds something funny. Makoto almost didn't notice as the fifth member of their party approached the garden. But when he did, the smile grew on his face. "Kirigiri!"

He attempts to get on his feet to greet her, but he stumbles as he tried to stand, and pain shoots up his leg. Makoto nearly crumples to the ground, but Fukawa and Asahina help him down. Kirigiri comes to sit next to him, a small frown on her face. "You're supposed to be careful with your leg, Naegi."

Makoto hums, knowing she's right. She usually is. Makoto also knows how lucky is he about his leg. It could have been worse. He could have been smashed to bits, becoming nothing more than blood and gore. Another victim. So he thinks a leg that sometimes doesn't work correctly after his fall through the trash shute is a fair price for his life.

As soon as Kirigiri settles into their circle, a final voice calls out. "Hey! Hey!"

All five heads spin to see Hagakure, jacket nearly falling from his shoulders, running up the path. He stops before their group, panting. "Oh, man, I'm really late aren't I?"

"No one's surprised."

Ignoring Togami, Hagakure slides down between him and Kirigiri, completing their little circle. "I've got a reason though! You see, I was running a bit late, but I was still gonna make it. But the light was red and I thought 'bout jaywalking, and then I thought 'bout how pissed Ishimaru would have been with me and how he would've chewed me out, and then I couldn't do it, ya know?"

They did know. Asahina passes him a donut, and the circle sits in silence for a little bit. They're an odd group, a mix of puzzle pieces that fit together but don't complete the puzzle. They're a mess, yet they make it work in a way only survivors could.

Fukawa clears her throat. All attention snaps to her; she flinches before sitting up a little straight. She pulls out a thick stack of slightly yellowed paper, bound together with bits of yarn. "I wrote this. They're, um, short stories. Not romances."

She shoves the makeshift book across the circle, and it ends up in Makoto's hands before he can think about it. He's confused- Toko Fukawa does not write short stories. And she doesn't dabble in other genres either. He opens the book carefully and begins to read. It takes him about three pages to realize what -no, who- the first short story is about. He flicks back to the dedication page and finds eight names written there. Makoto swallows, and tears beginning to gather in his eyes as he reads.

The stories aren't in the order he'd thought they'd be. Fukawa later admits she'd tried to do that, but some of the stories were harder to write than others, which is understandable. Makoto is amazed she was able to write about this at all. He makes it to the fourth story- about a gothic princess who built her kingdom up from nothing, who ruled over a kingdom made from her dreams and desires, a princess who didn't go up in flames in the end- before the tears start to fall.

Fukawa takes it the wrong way. She curls in on herself, stammering, "If you th-think it's bad, then, then you should just say something!"

"No, it's perfect. I just, ah, got overwhelmed. Don't think I can finish reading it right now. Um, Kirigiri, do you want to- Kirigiri?"

The detective is staring up at the sky, looking as if she's searching for something. A planet, a star, a UFO, or maybe- Maybe a rocket ship. Makoto rests his hand against her gloved one, and she startles to attention.

"He wouldn't want you to be miserable over what happened to him." He says, in the calmest voice he can manage.

"You barely knew him." She retorts.

Makoto doesn't reply. He simply hands Kirigiri Fukawa's book and watches as she flips through it. She passes it around the circle, and the others all read, slowly realizing what the short story collection is about. When it finally reaches Asahina, who has caught on, she furiously flips through the pages, finding the story she wants within seconds. She's as still as a statue as she reads. When she closes the book, she stares at it for a second, before she sobs.

Five different hands are immediately passing tissues her way. Asahina waves them off, only to pulls some from her own pockets. She dabs her eyes, before rushing into Fukawa, wrapping the writer in a hug. Fukawa's entire body tenses, but she lets the swimmer hug her. She doesn't hug back, but she doesn't complain about the touch either, so it's already an improvement.

After Asahina has successfully calmed down, Togami speaks up. "I have been thinking of a project I would like to implement once the world gets back on its feet. I am not asking for your approval, because I would do this even if you all hated it, but I believe you should know about it."

Togami explains how even though he's been using most of his family's fortune to help with the reconstruction of the world, he's been saving aside a bit. His idea is that when the world reaches a state of normalcy, he'll create scholarships, each dedicated to one of the killing games victims. For example, he'll create a scholarship for young aspiring programmers, especially those who've had experiences with bullying and wish to overcome it, in the name of Fujisaki. When he finishes speaking, he looks around the circle and makes eye contact with Makoto, who is smiling. He can't help it. "Togami, that- that's really good."

Togami doesn't say anything, just gives Makoto a curt nod, which tells the other a lot more than words ever could. The other voice their agreements, and Asahina pulls out a second box of donuts, which gets a few laughs.

Makoto's eyes wander as Kirigiri leans across him to grab a donut. He notices two children playing around in a meadow nearby. Even though they've survived the end of the world, the two kids play around with little care. (Makoto doesn't know if he admires them for that, or if he's jealous). Then, he notices the red ribbon tied into one of the girl's pigtails, and how they seem to be playing some sort of baseball with old pipes and a rotting ball-

And then he's not in the garden anymore, he's back at the school, watching as a freckled girl's body is turned into a pincushion, watching as the blood that spills from her mouth stains her clothes the same color as the ribbon in her hair. Then, only hours later, seeing another die, seeing as his body hung loose and bleeding, seeing the baseballs, all splattered in blood as they rolled away from the body.

Then someone grabs his hand. Makoto's heartbeat is beating through his ears and his vision is a bit blurry, but he hears someone say, "You're okay, You're okay,"

And even though he doesn’t feel okay, not at all, he takes in a shaking breath. He breathes in and out, watching as his vision clears and his heart can't be heard anymore. Kirigiri's holding his hand, and Togami is counting his breathing for him from across the circle. The other three have the tissues back in their hands, prepared. Makoto stays quiet for a minute before he nods. "I'm okay."

It's a lie; they all know it. But no one calls him out. Instead, Hagakure jumps into a story about the old lady who'd hit him with her purse after he'd done a reading for her, and they're all giggling by the end of it, even Togami. Makoto lets out a long breath and is pleased when it's not shaky.

They're never going to fully recover. But they've survived for an entire year after the killing game; they made it long enough for there to be an anniversary. They'll survive more, too, slowly getting better and better, for themselves and for those who have died. They owe it to the victims to live their lives as best as they can. And, Makoto thinks, as he looks around the circle, at his closest friends, he thinks they owe it to themselves too.

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! this is my first fic in this fandom and i hope i was able to do these characters justice. 
> 
> also, remember: no cops at pride only miss sakura oogami!


End file.
